Organic Chemistry
by brighteyedcat
Summary: CameronThirteen. AU past!fic. Thirteen and Cameron have some unresolved history to deal with when they find themselves enrolled in the same section of Organic Chemistry; however, instead of acknowledging their past, they turn it into a game. Femslash.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: **This is an Alternative Universe fic so we're pretending that Thirteen and Cameron are slightly closer in age and/or that Thirteen started college early. I left that kind of vague since it's not really critical to the story. As an additional note, the original prompt for this story requested gender and/or power play. Thanks for reading. :)

**i.**

It started as an easy semester; but then Remy's section of organic chemistry was canceled and in order to squeeze into another section, she had to switch the times and dates of all of her other classes. Even though she'd ultimately gotten what she wanted, when she walked into class and found herself face to face with…well, whatever her name was, the hours of arguing in the registrar's office didn't seem entirely worth it anymore.

Dropping her eyes and hiding behind her long hair in hopes that the girl would take the hint and not try to talk to her, Remy trotted up to the front of the classroom and explained to the professor that she'd transferred into his class. Once he verified her name in the roster, she promptly took a seat in the back, opened a notebook, and pretended to take notes.

"…Acid base reactions are fundamental processes that are required for the initiation of many organic reactions. Recall some of the definitions from general chemistry…," the professor explained, despite the fact that Remy's attention was elsewhere.

Allison. It hadn't been _that_ long, but it still took Remy longer than it should have to remember her name. Licking her lips and tasting the sweet remnants of coffee that had transferred onto her tongue, Remy bit her lower lip and looked down to where Allison was seated a few rows in front of her. Allison was one of those "girl next door" types and nothing particularly stood out about her, but it would never be a challenge for Remy to pick her out of a crowd. She supposed it was one of the benefits of having firsthand knowledge of the perfection that hid underneath those conservatively collared sweaters and comfortably fitted jeans.

Leaning over her notes, Allison pushed the frames of her glasses up the bridge of her nose before looking back up at the professor. More curious of what was going on behind her, however, Allison shadowed her face with her hair and snuck a glance of Remy watching her from the corner of her eye. Shifting uncomfortably in her chair, Allison cleared her throat, ran her fingers through the long waves in her hair, and returned her attention back to the lecture at hand; not wanting to offer Remy so much as a smile or receipt of recognition.

"…And what is the hybridization of this carbon?" The professor asked, drawing the diagram for sp2. "Uh…" the professor struggled to read the name in his new roster. "Reemee?"

Scoffing at the frequent butchering of her name, Remy lifted an index finger from her notebook and nodded at him so he'd find her among the cluster of nameless students in the lecture hall. "It's Remy," she corrected. _Again_, she thought, knowing she'd just told him her name barely twenty minutes ago.

Since her attention had been focused on Allison instead of the lecture at hand, Remy quickly glanced at her professor, then at the diagram on the board next to him so she could take a wild guess at the answer. Only before Remy could answer, she noticed that Allison had turned around and was resting her arm on the back of her chair, her stoic eyes pinned on Remy. Was she judging her, encouraging her, or just waiting to hear an answer like everyone else that was staring at her? She hated that Allison didn't even need to _do_ anything to scramble her thoughts.

"sp3," Remy finally answered, though she cringed and shook her head when she realized her mistake. She looked down at her notes to avoid further embarrassment, hoping that the professor would move the spotlight onto to someone else.

"I think you meant sp2," another student corrected.

"Very good," the professor praised the other girl before continuing with his lecture.

Remy didn't need to look up to see who the professor was talking about. Only Allison would be so bold as to seize an opportunity to snub _and_ correct her in one breath. Remy quickly realized that this…_situation_ was going to be a bigger issue than originally anticipated. She knew she should just deal with Allison now and nip it in the bud so to speak, but facing things that were right in front of her was not Remy's forte. Instead, she disappeared as quickly as possible after class. She didn't know if Allison wanted to talk to her or not, but she wasn't about to give her the opportunity. Maybe she would fare better to take organic chem next semester.


	2. Chapter 2

**ii.**

The following week, history repeated itself. Remy made it a point to sit as far away from Allison as possible and then as quietly as she came in, she left: unnoticed and hopefully unseen. Problem was, Remy was practically famished by the end of lecture this week and she'd already riffled through her bag for a snack during class and came up empty, which meant she'd have to go to the university café if she was going to make it through another three hours of lecture that day.

She hated going to the café. It was a breeding ground for strangers to spark small talk and play 20 questions with her, firing them off at a mile a minute. She had little to no interest in talking, but they all wanted to talk to her for some reason. Which is why, not even two minutes after she'd sat down by the window with her coffee and "fresh" muffin, it came as no surprise that someone decided to invade her space.

Remy re-crossed her legs, calmly closed her eyes, and clenched her teeth. It was her. She knew it was because she knew that perfume like she knew the chemical compound of water. Ralph Lauren's Romance; another one of those annoying benefits of choosing to sleep with someone more than a few times. Remy had once tried to buy Allison something else to wear, but only because "_Romance_" was so feminine it was almost a turn off. Almost. Typically, she admitted that it – coupled with a few conniving tricks that Allison always seemed to have hidden up one sleeve or another – turned Remy into an insatiable animal. This would not be one of those times, she told herself.

Remy didn't speak or acknowledge Cam– no, _Allison_ sitting there with her, and Allison offered her the same insolence in return…but she also refused to leave. The café was far from silent and yet, Remy had to consciously force herself not to resort to nervous fidgeting in order to tolerate the standoff going on at her table. The fact that she knew Allison was staring at her with that know-it-all smirk on her face that Remy couldn't fucking stand wasn't helping either. Resilient to her baited hook, Remy blew a cooling breath over her coffee and sipped it between bites that she tore from the muffin. She would not speak to her. Allison Cameron did not exist.

Reaching a hand across the table, Allison picked off a corner of the muffin and drew back to eat it. Poppy seeds crushed between her teeth until she swallowed the sweet pastry. Then, licking the tart, lemon icing from her lips, Allison waited patiently for Remy to react to her presence in some way. But Remy just kept sipping her coffee and picking away at the muffin like a spoiled, bratty child. Typical.

"So you're just _not_ going to talk to me?" Allison asked, conceding in the not-staring contest.

"Nope," Remy said defiantly. Looking at her for a moment with a familiarly bitchy smirk, Remy popped the last of the muffin into her mouth and chewed it slowly in order to keep her attention on the tangy flavor melting on her tongue rather than talking to Allison. Balling up the wrapper, Remy drew her hand back, took aim, and tossed the waste into a nearby bin as if she were playing basketball; a sport she was only good at when it came to eliminating garbage. Wrapping her hands back around her cup of coffee, she lowered her lips to blow over the hot beverage again but this time kept her eyes up and focused on Allison.

The way Remy raised her brows at her like that served as a perfect reminder as to why they'd stopped seeing each other in the first place. Without provocation, Remy was a condescending bitch and was sickly proud of it simply because she could get away with it. She used her Huntington's diagnosis as a free pass to be spiteful and insensitive about everything, but Allison had never stood for it and that drove Remy completely bonkers. Still, having this reminder of how rude Remy could be whenever she felt threatened (which was all the time) made Allison consider raising a white flag and moving on to someone more worth her time.

But she knew better. Remy was just scared and resorting to playing games with her again. Games that Remy had always won until Allison came along and threw her world off its axis. Cocking her head to the side, Allison revered Remy in her vigilant and silent battle, both admiring her strength and disappointed in her inability to share her known vulnerabilities with someone Remy should have felt safe with after everything they'd gone through together.

"This is really juvenile, Remy," Allison complained, rolling her eyes. "Or are you still going by '_Thirteen?_'" She sneered at the brunette's unfortunate choice of a nickname. It wasn't even a nickname. 'Thirteen' was nothing more than a fateful reminder of the day that Remy's blood test came back positive. A day which Remy had decided she was no longer a person; just one of many numbered patients waiting to die.

"You're the one who sat down and didn't say anything," she snapped. "What do you want?"

If she'd been speaking to anyone else, Allison would have been offended. "I just thought maybe we could, I don't know, talk?" She offered, fidgeting and intertwining her fingers together before carefully drifting a hand across the table and drawing a squiggly line down Remy's fingertips then catching her eyes and smiling at her.

"You think we should…talk?" Remy asked, suppressing laughter. "Look, Allison –"

"What did you just call me?" She interrupted, sitting upright and taking her hand away. Maybe they were doomed after all. She'd never called her Allison before. And it's not like she hated her name, but hearing it fall from Remy's lips was like hearing the Pope denounce his own religion.

"Um…pretty sure you've heard the name before, seeing how it's yours and all," she deadpanned, taking a final drink of coffee and then pushing the cup forward.

"I know what my name is," she replied bitterly, but trying not to seem hurt by the obvious offense. "It's just that you never…" pausing to think of a safe retreat. "It just surprised me is all," she shrugged it off.

"Yeah, well…things change." Sighing when it was apparent that Cameron was not going to leave her alone, "I have another class to go to," she lied. Gathering her bag and slipping the strap diagonally over her head to rest upon her opposite shoulder, Remy stood to leave. Cameron was not one to give up easily on anything so Remy would have to make a break for it, but she was quickly stopped when Cameron grabbed her arm and then scurried to stand in front of her. "We'll talk about this later, Allison," she repeated the name, knowing it bothered her.

Cameron laughed in spite of herself. "I may not have seen you in a year, but I still know who you are. You _never_ talk."

"Congratulations, you have me all figured out! Can I go now?" She asked, glaring. It wasn't really a question, but when Cameron refused to move out of her way, Remy gave in. "What do you want me to say, that I have these secret feelings for you? Or better yet," she laughed, stepping back and touching her fingertips to her lips in an attempt to hold herself back from being too callous, "Did you want to tell me that you think _you_ have feelings for me? Because I can't even _begin_ to tell you how ridiculous that sounds."

"I'm not admitting to anything, true or not, but why would it be ridiculous if I cared about you? We _did_ spend an entire summer together."

"No, we had sex at mutually agreeable times in order to avoid grieving or otherwise dealing with our own fucked up realities," she corrected. It felt good to correct Cameron, especially since she cringed in embarrassment over the word "sex" being so blatantly discussed in a public café. With the fuel of self-righteousness behind her, Remy was compelled to push further. Maybe then Cameron would see the big picture for what it was and fuck off. "Sex therapy was fun and extremely counter-productive, which I appreciated, but we also mutually agreed to end it over a year ago."

Remy was talking too much and as good as it felt, she knew if she kept it up, she'd go from the clever champion with a hot trophy to boot, to the pathetic insect squashed by Cameron's intellect. She had to get out of there, but with every step she attempted, Cameron skipped up next to her, all the while unknowingly pulling at Remy's heartstrings by way of her desperation to talk to her…or need to prove that she was right; that Cameron meant more to Remy than she was letting on. Either was bad news because the fact of the matter was that Remy _did_ want Cameron for more than what they'd been to each other before, but she couldn't allow that to happen. She didn't want to be left broken hearted and alone when Cameron woke up from this warped nightmare of a one-night-stand gone uncontrollably awry.

A year ago, Allison Cameron had been nothing more than a project for her; someone that was supposed to disappear at the end of the summer. And she would have had Remy not unintentionally transferred into her organic chemistry section. The last thing she wanted was to give Cameron another shot with her, knowing that the balance of control might shift, making _her_ the new sympathy project bending to _Cameron's_ will.

"Why are you bringing this up now?" Remy had to ask, but immediately regretted it.

"Because I saw how you looked at me in class last week and I see that same look in you right now. You miss me," Cameron declared without even missing a beat.

And there it was: the heel of Cameron's shoe, effectively squishing Thirteen into a gooey mess on the floor. "That's –" Remy struggled to find the words. She would never be able to plead her case if she was too busy salivating over her. Then panic arrived and started to make itself comfortable in the pit of her stomach. "Absurd," she sputtered out. Her panic spread as quickly as Cameron's triumphant smile and then Thirteen resorted to unscrupulous verbal abuse. "You need to deal with the death of your husband and stop using me to do it for you."

"Yeah because you're the picture-perfect image of recovery and acceptance of reality," she laughed.

"Okay seriously, Allison," Remy said, grabbing Cameron's arms and facing her.

"Stop calling me 'Allison,' _Thirteen_," she jabbed, furrowing her brows and wriggling out of Thirteen's grip.

Remy held back a snicker. Cameron was always so cute and amusing whenever she tried to be assertive. _God, she smells good_, she thought, falling into her temptations and taking a step closer to her. _Stop it!_ She stepped back to reestablish control of herself and of Cameron. "I have to go. This," she said indicating the two of them with her fingers, "is over. Has been since last August. Move on."

It seemed necessary to be somewhat cruel to her, as unrelenting as she was. It wasn't like Cameron ever got her feelings hurt by rejection anyway. She just kept pushing until Thirteen gave in, which was exactly why she needed to escape. And probably change her class schedule again except that it was probably too late to drop without failing.

"Why should I? You clearly haven't," she challenged, staring back at Thirteen with a teasing grin, her bright green eyes glowing with pride. Cameron loved playing this game. She was good at it and she loved to watch Thirteen unravel over the most superfluous things. Things like allowing someone to give a damn about her. Thirteen was convinced that she was a lost cause, but Cameron vehemently disagreed. She'd seen lost causes. Sure, Thirteen had a death sentence, but she was years away from when it would become imperative to her lifestyle and that was no excuse for her to avoid dealing with humanity – or Cameron – in the interim.

Seething (from either anger or a passionate need to throw Cameron up against the wall and fuck her senselessly, she wasn't sure which), Thirteen sucked in a breath, held it, then opened her eyes to face Cameron one more time. "Yes. I have."

"Very convincing performance," she chuckled. Taking a step closer, Cameron invaded Thirteen's overly paranoid personal space and deftly hovered her lips over her cheek before kissing the soft, noticeably flushed skin. "See you next week, Thirteen," she whispered, running her fingers down Remy's arm and then walking away.


	3. Chapter 3

**iii.**

Cameron was all Thirteen could think about after their encounter in the café, and when that stupid class rolled around week after week, it was obvious that Cameron was enjoying every second she spent antagonizing Thirteen. First she unbuttoned a shirt button that had no business being unbuttoned in a room full of students and deliberately sat in front of Thirteen as to give her a perfect view of what she was missing out on for the entire lecture.

Then the next week, Cameron wore another low cut shirt, only this time she ran her fingertips through her long, softly curled hair before callously glancing back at Thirteen and catching her looking at her. Amused, Cameron rounded out her teasing with a seemingly innocent, catch-me-if-you-can smirk.

Lifting her right hand up from the papers on her desk and directing the back of it to face Cameron, Thirteen cocked her head to the side and flipped her off. "Fuck you," she mouthed silently to the shameless blonde sitting in front of her.

"You wish," Cameron replied before turning back around in her chair and continuing to take notes with a haughty grin plastered to her face. This was going to be almost _too_ easy.

Then Cameron started wearing skirts to class; something she'd never done the entire blisteringly hot summer they'd spent together even though Thirteen had practically begged her to once. She never even wore a skirt on the extremely rare occasions when Thirteen was guilt-tripped into taking Cameron out on a real "date." Nope. She only wore them now, on Wednesday afternoons in Organic Chemistry 303, Sect. 5.

Annoyed with Cameron's obvious attempts to instigate her, Thirteen leaned forward in her chair and surprised the little nymph with her closeness when a lock of her dark brown hair fell against Cameron's pale cheek. "You think just because you're wearing skirts now that I'm going to suddenly change my mind and ask you out?" She asked, keeping her eyes away from Cameron and focused on the professor. "It's not going to work," she whispered as she sat back in her chair, even though it was a total lie. It only took one quick look down Cameron's long, smooth legs crossed and tucked underneath her chair for Thirteen to realize that her tactics were totally working.

Clearing her throat and tossing her hair back over her shoulder, Cameron shifted her eyes back to Thirteen then quickly looked away. "Almost believed you that time," she snickered with a clever smile before returning her attention back to her notes.

Thirteen scoffed quietly and shook her head at Cameron's unending audacity when it came to getting what she wanted. Later in class, everyone broke up into groups and it was around the time that Cameron started blatantly flirting with one of her lab partners that Thirteen realized that she didn't have to take this shit from her anymore. It was just appalling and desperate of her, really. He wasn't even her type. And even though Thirteen _knew_ this was just a stupid game, it still pissed her off to high heaven that he was getting more attention from Cameron than she was. Still, if Cameron wanted to play dirty, Thirteen could easily raise the stakes and have the brazen little flirt eating from her hand in no time. Only one would win at this game and Cameron had no idea who she was dealing with.

The next week, Thirteen showed up for class looking like she hadn't actually just rolled out of bed. Under her long white pea coat, she wore a dark brown academic v-neck sweater with a tan, collared shirt peeking out of the top. Simple enough, she thought while tying her hair back into two low pigtails that morning, but then she added a loosely knotted, moss green necktie and carefully tucked it into the plunge of her sweater. Applying a lychee-tinted lip-gloss before class and smirking at herself in the mirror, Thirteen was confident that this would ensnare Cameron quicker than anything she could possibly say to her, and she was right.

When Cameron first caught eye of Thirteen hanging up her coat on the back of her chair, she almost visibly tripped over herself. Tightening her lips to avoid gaping, Cameron took her now usual seat in front of and one seat over from Thirteen, got out her lecture materials, then sat perfectly still and facing forward. Like clockwork, a moment later Thirteen propped up her tattered old black Converse sneakers onto the back of the seat beside her. Cameron tried to sit still and ignore her, but soon enough, she took the bait. Crossing her legs towards Thirteen and turning around, she ended their month-long stand off.

"Finally ran out of over-worn and under-washed hoodies, I see," Cameron joked in an effort to hide her inexplicable fascination with Thirteen's chosen attire. She looked incredibly smart. Genteel even.

Thirteen superciliously smiled at Cameron, sensing victory...again. "Do I know you?" She asked, playing along while pretending to ignore Cameron's ever-critical exploration of her from the corner of her eye.

"Funny, I was just asking myself the same question about you," she said with a glint of hope in her eyes. Thirteen was clearly interested in taking their little tango to the next level. Now all Cameron had to do was close the deal and get Thirteen to ask her out. _Game over, Thirteen. Victory is nigh_, she thought. "You look…" _fucking hot_ "nice," she admitted with a coy smile.

Mulling over an appropriate response, just in case there were strings attached to the compliment, Thirteen settled on a simple "thanks."

Cameron's smile brightened as she returned her attention back to the front of the class when the professor made his appearance and began lecture.

Cameron's reaction was far more than Thirteen had expected and now her resolve against sleeping with her again had been completely obliterated. What was she doing?! Cameron had baited her into this and now Thirteen was not only playing along, but had clearly struck an unexpected nerve with her. Nothing good was going to come of this, but on the other hand, it felt _so good_ to play again. It'd only been a year and maybe two months since she'd slept with Cameron, but she'd forgotten how much she enjoyed the tug of war that always preceded it. Maybe this could work. She would never likely meet anyone that enjoyed the banter of foreplay as much as Cameron did, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to.

"Remy?" Cameron asked, now standing beside her, a puzzled look on her face. Thirteen looked around and watched the procession of students filing out the various exits in total disorder. Was class over? By the looks of things, it was, and by the look of the blank page in front of her, she'd been sitting there daydreaming for the whole class. "Rem," Cameron addressed her again a little louder, chuckling this time as she playfully flipped one of Remy's pigtails against her face.

"I'm sorry, I was…" she drifted, looking up at Cameron and finding herself unable to speak at the sight of her. Those soft green eyes of hers could cure any ailment. _If only that were true_, she wished. "Uh, never mind," she said blinking a few times to snap the fuck out of it. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Cameron said, taking a few steps up towards the back of the lecture hall and half waiting for Thirteen to follow her, even though she wasn't moving from her seat. "Class is over, Rem," she said once she'd reached the door.

"Oh," Thirteen replied, disappointed. She was hoping for an invitation of sorts. Picking up her bag that had gone completely untouched during class, Thirteen stood up and prepared to leave. "So do you maybe want to meet up somewhere tonight?" She asked on impulse as she pulled on her coat, but quickly realizing that Cameron had ditched her. "Cameron?" She asked, looking around.

Rushing out of the empty classroom, Thirteen looked down the long corridors until she spotted Cameron just as she was wrapping a light pink scarf around her neck and pushing the door open to go outside. _Shit_, Thirteen thought while running like a fool down the hallway. It wasn't like she would never see her again, but waiting another week suddenly seemed like an eternity.

"Cameron!" She yelled, out of breath and colder than she'd expected to be once she'd made it outside.

Cameron stopped walking and turned her head to the side, unsure if her ears were deceiving her or not. But then she heard Thirteen call for her again and a huge, narcissistic glow ignited within her. She'd won. Trying to hide her pride before turning around, Cameron waited for Thirteen to catch up. "So we're back to nicknames, I see. Does that mean that you want me to come over tonight?"

_Yes_, Thirteen thought. "No."

Cameron scoffed at the blatant rejection. "Then _what_?" She asked, perching a hand on her hip to make sure Thirteen was well aware of her indignation.

Thirteen laughed, defensively raising her hands from out of her coat pockets. "Whoa, it's not that I don't want you to come over…" Hesitating for only a moment, Thirteen slinked up to Cameron and took the ends of the pink scarf into her hands, fingering the delicate cashmere fabric for a moment before lifting her impossibly bright viridian eyes to look back at Cameron. "Because I do…but I'd rather you pick me up first. Say…maybe 8ish? On Friday?"

"Are –" Cameron stumbled, "Is this one of your fucked up jokes?" She asked cautiously. "Or are you really asking me out?" She could almost hear her heart bursting from its cage and her lungs simultaneously giving out on her from just the _possibility_ that this was really happening. Thirteen had made it abundantly clear a year ago that she didn't date _anyone_, but here she was asking Cameron out on a date. She couldn't believe it!

"Well I'm trying to, but you're not exactly making it very easy on me," she replied, tucking a fallen strand of hair back behind Cameron's ear.

Stunned by Thirteen's change of heart and sudden sensitivity, Cameron couldn't come up with a clever enough quip to deflect what this might really mean. It wasn't like this was the first time Thirteen had swept her off her feet, but the last time she was being commanded into a well-lit room and stripped of her clothing – and dignity – in less than 10 minutes. This was entirely different. Her knees were weakening at Thirteen's willingness to be vulnerable and emotionally available to her. She hadn't felt like this since she'd fallen for…

She stopped herself from comparing the two any further. They were different people and she was not in love with Thirteen like she had been with her husband. She couldn't be. But she _was_ lonesome and being with Thirteen had always dulled that constant fear and pain of being alone and…unneeded.

"I don't even know who I'm talking to right now," Cameron whispered.

"Should I just take that as a yes then?" Remy asked, looking straight through the scared, brick wall that Cameron had quickly built between them. When Cameron nodded, a shy smile and subtle glow coming to her cheeks, Thirteen let go of her scarf and respectfully took a step back from her. "Wear something nice. A skirt," she suggested with a wink, though it was really more like a request.

When Thirteen turned to leave, she shoved her hands back into her pockets and listened as her Converse sneakers crunched and squeaked quietly against the snow-dusted brick sidewalk until she was back inside the building and on her way to her next class. Never once did she turn around to see Cameron standing there in the snow, dumbfounded but ever skeptical.


	4. Chapter 4

**iv.**

It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that Cameron was standing at Thirteen's front door, she started to second-guess this whole serious dating thing. Maybe they were better off as what they were before, convenient and commitment free. Going out like this was ill-fated and fuel for an impending disaster, wasn't it? But it was too late now. She'd already knocked on the door before the very real possibility of this going south crossed her mind. Smoothing down her tiered, variegated cerulean dress then tightly clutching her black purse against her stomach, Cameron waited for Thirteen to answer the door while praying to a God she didn't even believe in that they would both survive this evening unscathed.

Across the apartment, Thirteen stepped out of the shower and wrung out her drenched hair in a towel. She pulled on a bra and panties, then slid into a pair of black slacks and a white ruched button-down shirt, pausing for a moment when she thought she heard the door knock. Checking her watch and then dismissing it as the icemaker making strange noises again, Thirteen continued to brush out her hair. But then, while adding a touch of loose powder to her face and a smidge of mascara, she heard an unmistakable knock at the door, which made her think that the first knock hadn't been imaginary.

Thirteen hurried across the apartment and looked through the peephole. Not that she needed to. She knew who it was. Hypothesis skipped over theory and moved straight on to fact and she rushed away from the door, slipping on a stray sock and almost crashing to the floor before catching herself.

"Be right there," she called back, struggling to figure out her priorities. Sure, opening the door was one of them but Cameron was early…_really_ early, and her place was a mess, she was a mess, and there were two bottles of beer on the floor of her bedroom next to piles and piles of clothing that she'd gone through in an effort to locate the perfect ensemble to wear tonight. Thirteen quickly ran back to the bathroom to pull her hair back into a slick, low ponytail and then spritzed some men's cologne onto her long neck and delicate wrists before rushing back to her bedroom for more damage control. Picking up the bottles of beer to put away in the kitchen, she kicked the remaining clothes on the floor into her closet and shut the door.

Giving her place a quick once over while haphazardly buttoning her shirt closed, Thirteen took a deep breath and let it out slowly before finally opening the front door.

"About time," Cameron barked playfully.

"Cameron, hey," Remy said, hiding behind the door. "You're kind of early," she replied nonchalantly even though it was probably obvious from the crooked buttoning of her shirt and prolonged delay in answering the door that Thirteen wasn't ready to see her. Still, Thirteen had no problem taking her time in soaking up how stunning Cameron looked standing there in her doorway. She couldn't believe Cameron had actually shown up in the first place, let alone in such a flattering dress. Of course, she always looked great, but tonight she looked especially beautiful and it definitely showed on Thirteen's face.

Glancing at her watch, "I'm not _that_ early," Cameron replied, inviting herself in and wondering how long it took Thirteen to get ready for a date. She'd taken a shower at least two hours ago and here Thirteen was, still soaking wet not even fifteen minutes before they were supposed to go out for dinner. "Looks like you started the evening without me anyway," she added, nodding at the bottles of beer in Thirteen's hand.

_Shit_, Thirteen cursed herself for not actually making it to the kitchen. The beer was probably the most incriminating evidence of her attempt to numb her nerves before Cameron came over and here she was, guilty as sin. "Uh, well…I have more if you want one," she offered clumsily even if she knew Cameron probably wouldn't be interested.

"Okay," Cameron said hanging up her coat, gloves, and scarf by the front door before walking around the familiar living room and making herself comfortable. Two empty bottles of beer were certainly better than the empty _cases_ of beer scattered about the floor and table, which is what Cameron recalled seeing the last time she'd been at Remy's apartment. She took that as a sign of improvement and that maybe "Thirteen" was starting to accept that she wasn't just another number and that her life actually _was_ worth living after all.

"Really?" Remy asked, perplexed by Cameron's sudden agreeableness, but going to the kitchen to fetch her a cold bottle from the fridge anyway.

"Unless you have something else," Cameron suggested, leaning over the kitchen counter to watch Remy.

"Um…" she thought aloud, opening the refrigerator and looking around. Turning around to the sink and offering out her hand, "Water?" She winced. "Oh, and I have some tequila."

Cameron laughed, "No thanks," she said, holding out her hand for the perspiring beverage that Remy was holding.

"Sorry," she shrugged, handing the bottle to Cameron after using the hinge of her refrigerator door to snap it open. "I guess I should have gone to the store this afternoon."

Snickering before she took a sip, "It's fine, Rem," Cameron said, smiling, though when Thirteen's back was turned to throw away the empty bottles, she grimaced rather dramatically at the drink's bitterness. It wasn't the worst beer she'd ever had, but it was still beer and that in itself was enough to dissatisfy her taste.

"All right, well…I'm going to go finish getting dressed," Remy announced, squeezing Cameron's hand as she nervously stumbled away in the general direction of her bedroom.

"Need any help?" Cameron teased, following her for a moment until Thirteen turned around and stopped her with an outstretched palm, insisting that she instead sit on the couch and wait.

"I know looks can be deceiving, but I think I can manage," she said over her shoulder as she unbuttoned then re-buttoned her shirt properly.

Sitting down on the couch to wait for Thirteen, Cameron kept herself busy by opening a mirrored compact to check and then reapply her lip gloss. Rubbing her lips together so that the the shimmering pigment blended evenly into the unique texture of her lips, Cameron smacked her lips and then put the compact and gloss back into her purse.

"Where's your roommate?" Cameron asked, picking up her drink from the coffee table for another swig. Again scowling at the flavor, Cameron held the bottle out with two fingers as if it were some horribly soiled rag and set it onto the coffee table to stay.

"Don't have one anymore," Remy answered from the bedroom as she hooked a pair of black suspenders onto the buttons along the inside hem of her trousers and then letting the elastics hang at her hips.

"Think we scared her off?" Cameron joked.

Remy laughed as she pulled the suspender straps up over her shoulders. "You'd have to ask her that," she smiled, the thrilling memories of their shared past bringing a shameful flush to her cheeks.

Growing impatient from waiting alone in the other room, Cameron got up from the couch, leaned against Remy's bedroom doorway, and hungrily watched her handsome date get dressed behind her back.

"I know you're standing there, Cameron," Remy said while rolling the cuffs of her sleeves halfway up her arms and turning around. Wrinkling her nose at her, "You've never been very subtle."

"It's not like it's anything I haven't seen before," she said, striding in uninvited and leaning against the dresser. Though, in truth, this was definitely a first. She'd never seen Remy dressed as nice as she was now and it was delightfully breathtaking.

"Would it kill you to at least _pretend_ that this is a first date?" Remy laughed, though not bothering to kick Cameron out. She was right, after all. Stepping into the closet to fetch one of her hats, Remy flipped her ponytail atop her head and slid on a houndstooth jockey cap then carefully tucked all of her hair up underneath it.

"Hmph, you better be glad it's not," Cameron jeered. "Making me wait –" she choked on her words when Thirteen reemerged from the closet. "Like this," she finished, her tone noticeably softer.

Walking over to the mirror above her dresser, Thirteen glanced over at Cameron and smirked at her. Flipping her collar up, Thirteen slid a black, silk tie around her neck and after ensuring the proper lengths of each end, she started to loop one around the other to form a knot, but each time it ended up being too long, too short, or too bulky.

Hesitant to intrude at first, Cameron slowly reached out for Thirteen's tie but then drew her hand back. "May I?" She offered gently, anxious to assist Remy in a task she'd always adored taking care of for her late husband. It was a risk to even ask Thirteen for this, knowing that it crossed their former boundaries of intimacy, but Cameron hoped that if Thirteen knew how badly wanted this that she'd allow it anyway.

For what seemed like hours, Thirteen just stared at Cameron, both taken and intimidated by the girl's quiet, desperate need to perform such a simple favor for her. It bothered her to let Cameron help her at all -- even with something as mundane and insignificant as this -- but eventually, Thirteen nodded at her. "All right," she said in a low voice.

Cameron cautiously smiled back at Thirteen, her grateful gesture so slight that had they been standing further apart, Remy would have missed it. Leading Thirteen back to sit down on the bed, Cameron knelt down between her legs and took the tie into her hands so that she could finish dressing her for their date.


	5. Chapter 5

**v.**

Once Thirteen was seated on the bed, Cameron reached up to her neck and took apart the sloppy knot. She snickered almost inaudibly while running her fingers down along the long, sleek fabric of the tie. So many uses; it seemed a shame to only be using it as a fashion accessory right now. However at the same time, Cameron couldn't help but appreciate how sexy it was going to look on Thirteen.

"So where are we going for dinner?" Cameron asked, excited to have a girl like Thirteen as her personal escort for the entire evening.

"It would be more fun if you'd just let me surprise you," Thirteen teased, leaning back onto her hands on the bed. "That dress looks amazing on you, by the way," she added while keeping her eyes fixated on Cameron's skillful fingers working on tying the perfect knot around her neck.

"I know," she smiled, looking up at Thirteen but for only a short moment.

"'Thank you' is usually a more customary response to a compliment," she paused, "but I think a kiss would suffice in this case." Her eyes sparked and she bit her lip when Cameron caught her gaze again with an equally teasing smirk. Unable to resist, Thirteen leaned in to kiss Cameron.

Shying away from Thirteen's kiss, Cameron chuckled softly. "That seems kind of…_inappropriate_ for a first date, don't you think?" She asked, amused as she took the finished knot into her hands and slowly slid it up to Thirteen's throat.

"Okay so perhaps I was being a little too strict about the whole first date thing," Thirteen retracted, all the while taking in Cameron's romantically feminine perfume whenever she moved or tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"No, I think you're right. You should at _least_ buy me dinner before skipping straight to a goodnight kiss," Cameron played as she took special care to fold down Thirteen's collar over the tie then smoothing her hands down her shoulders. She looked perfect; like the proper, sharp-dressed boyfriend she never had but always wanted.

"I suppose," she sulked, leaning back onto her hands again. "But are you sure it wouldn't be okay to break from tradition just this one time?" She asked, moving a misplaced strand of Cameron's long bangs back to where it had fallen. As much as she was enjoying all of Cameron's doting, Thirteen really wished she was _un_dressing her.

"I don't know," Cameron pondered, standing up to get a tube of colorless lip-gloss from the dresser. "It's really not very becoming for a gentleman to make such a pass at a lady so soon," she mocked, turning around and kneeling back down below Thirteen and maintaining her composure as best she could. She slowly lifted the saturated wand of gloss up to her slightly parted lips and as precise and focused as an artist, Cameron painted Thirteen's lips until they gleamed like wet pink glass.

Thirteen didn't really care if it was gentlemanly or not, she couldn't stand the charade anymore and purposefully slid her hands around Cameron's back, pulling her up between her legs and encouraging her to cut with the pretense and just come to her already. Tucking her nose beneath Cameron's long sandy hair and nuzzling her neck with intermittent kisses, "You don't really want to make a poor chap like me beg now, do you?" She whispered, smiling when she heard Cameron gasp ever so slightly from her touch.

Allowing Thirteen to pull her closer, Cameron dropped the lip gloss to the floor and slinked onto Thirteen's lap, straddling her thighs and running her hands over Thirteen's shoulders and down her back. "Maybe–" she said breathlessly into Thirteen's ear as she lifted her dress a little more before settling back atop her. "Maybe just this one time," she conceded, staring back at Thirteen's vividly captivating eyes for an extended moment before kissing her.

Their lips fused together, at first hesitantly as if to familiarize themselves with each other's taste and desires again, but with every passing second, their games of innocence and feigned indifference fell by the wayside. Cameron was overjoyed to be once again reunited with a lover she'd come to depend so heavily upon a little over a year ago and Thirteen was simply beside herself, unable to believe that a girl like Cameron might actually _like_ her. Their needs were entirely different now than they were a year ago and though they never sought each other for love, their addictive reliance on one another was profoundly mutual.

Thirteen's kisses were demanding as ever and left little room for Cameron to challenge or experiment. Not that she would have. Thirteen's commanding presence was what attracted her to Thirteen in the first place; she was courageous in the areas where Cameron fell short, though still fragile enough to feed off of Cameron's unbiased compassion for every level of human suffering. There was a truth behind the desperation and fear she could taste and feel in Thirteen's ferocity and though Cameron often felt as if each night with her could be her last, she clung to it with ever fiber of her being. She had missed her dark, impetuous passion and even though Thirteen's soft lips and inviting fingers always ravaged her to the core, it also fueled her need to survive.

A year after their last fiery encounter, Cameron sat straddling Thirteen's thighs and holding onto her face as she kissed her, wanting Remy to know, to _feel_ how badly she'd missed her. Thirteen's hands traveled up the small of Cameron's back to just between the blades of her shoulders where her bony but elegantly strong hands slowly worked on unzipping her dress. When the short sleeves fell down Cameron's shoulders, Cameron arched into their kiss more until they were smashed together in one scorching hot need for each other's familiar contact. Cameron breathlessly pulled away from their kiss, carefully removed Thirteen's hat, and set it aside. She remained wrapped around Thirteen as the other woman's lips traveled down her neck to her chest, pulling the delicate fabric of the dress down as she went. And when Thirteen's lips and tongue slid across the perfect curve of Cameron's breast, Cameron all but lost it.

"Oh _Remy_," she moaned, giving in completely as she fell forward onto Thirteen and pushing her down onto the bed. She wrestled to remain on top of her, but was bested by Thirteen's hidden strength that forced her onto her back and against the pillows. "Damn you," she laughed, still fighting to beat her just _once_, but in all honesty, she knew Thirteen didn't even have to _try_ to subdue her.

"I really don't know why you bother," Remy said, mocking Cameron's pathetic struggling before leaning over and kissing her again, instantaneously snuffing out the other woman's fight. Traipsing her fingers down along Cameron's contours and moaning quietly whenever the girl shifted into her hands, Thirteen silently revered the fact that Cameron was back in her bed again. "God, where does a girl like you even _come_ from," she whispered, breathing her in and gripping the end of Cameron's dress into a fist and pulling the skirt up to touch the smooth skin of her thighs, desperately wanting but waiting patiently for the right moment to take her again.

Cameron gasped quietly from Thirteen's careful fingers touching her without giving her the release of actually fucking her. Reaching around Thirteen's back, but not getting any response from her when she tried to pull her closer, Cameron wrapped her fingers around the silk tie that hung between them and yanked on it until Thirteen's lips hovered above her own, though still resisting a kiss despite the taut grip Cameron had on her.

"Why do you always make this more difficult than it needs to be?" She hissed, wrapping her leg around Thirteen's back and forcing her closer.

Amused by Cameron's passive aggressiveness, Thirteen slipped her hand under Cameron's raised skirt and ran her fingers along the soft curve of her ass, feeling the grip around her neck loosen as she did so. "Because I know you'd have it no other way," she answered, flicking her tongue over Cameron's awaiting mouth and then kissing her again.

While distracting Thirteen with a kiss, Cameron ran her hand under one of the black suspenders and down her chest, smiling when she felt Thirteen flinch in surprise when she accidentally snapped the elastic. Undoing a few select buttons of Thirteen's shirt, Cameron reached a hand under the crisp, white blouse to grope her. Thirteen's lacy bra betrayed the rest of her boyish attire but pleased Cameron just the same. She kissed her between bated sighs as she ground her hips against Thirteen, pitching them up towards the delicate hand that lay dangerously close to her panties though still failing to touch her.

Frustrated, Cameron's hand crept down to Thirteen's thighs where she undid the button of her trousers, feeling every soft muscle flex whenever she touched her just so. Thrilled by Thirteen's expectant groans every time she deliberately touched her, Cameron's fingers slid deeper between the girl's thighs, arousing her steadily until she abruptly stopped. She caught Thirteen's questioning glare and snickered at her in response just as she slid her fingers between her own legs, her eyes fluttering closed when she felt how wet she was.

Feeling Cameron's hand play with herself between them, Thirteen growled as she lowered her lips to Cameron's breasts, flicking her tongue over them as she attempted to replace Cameron's hand with her own. But Cameron wasn't having it. Every attempt Thirteen made to touch her, she shoved her away, chuckling between moans of selfish gratification.

"Don't test me, Cam," Remy purred into her ear even if she had no real intention of stopping her.

"Oh please, you couldn't hurt a fly," she laughed, pushing her fingers into herself and gripping onto Thirteen tighter as she did so.

"Is that so?" Thirteen asked, anticipating. "Either you know me a lot better than I thought you did and you're playing me..." She paused, her mouth falling agape when Cameron's lips found then sucked upon her breast as a successful means of distraction. Pulling away from her, Thirteen reestablished her control over Cameron and pushed the blonde back down onto the bed. "Or you really don't know me at all," she challenged, smiling widely.

"Hmm…which is it, I wonder?" She taunted, licking her lips and becoming more excited by the endless possibilities Thirteen could have in store for her. She'd struck a match; now all she needed was some gasoline.

Cameron's cocky grin paired with that despicably snooty glint in her eyes was more than enough to annoy Thirteen to her breaking point. Yanking Cameron's hand from herself and shoving it into the pillows above her head, Thirteen fought with Cameron until she again had her pinned beneath her. Panting, Thirteen lowered her mouth and sucked each one of Cameron's fingers clean, which swiftly ceased her protests.

In response, Cameron sat up and tenderly kissed Thirteen before flipping herself onto her stomach and allowing Thirteen to secure her down against the bed using her own weight and a tight grip that she maintained on the base of her neck. Reaching back, Cameron tucked her thumbs into the edge of her panties and slid them down to her knees as Thirteen lowered herself onto Cameron's back and licked the skin beneath Cameron's ear.

"You were saying?" Thirteen asked, dropping her head down to her chin and closing her eyes when she felt Cameron press back against her hand between her legs.

"Please, Remy," she begged, waiting.

Hasty from the days she'd spent anticipating this moment, Thirteen roughly slid into her and Cameron audibly winced as her muscles tightened around the delicate though well practiced fingers. But then, as they became slick from Cameron's arousal, she relaxed against Thirteen and her body started to crave more of her. Gripping the corner of a nearby pillow and blanket for a security she knew she would need to contain herself, Cameron stretched her back like a cat, inviting Thirteen's concealed but celebrated aggression to come out and play with her.

Free falling right into the wickedly placed trap, Thirteen pushed harder into Cameron while securing her at the neck, and with every breath and rapid beat of their hearts, Thirteen felt something distinctly dark and wonderful start to stir within her. Soon, every slow pulse into Cameron increased in speed and force, bringing about Thirteen's insatiable need to be inside of her.

Cameron yelped and bit into the pillow in front of her to suppress her cries when Thirteen started to fuck her harder, but she graciously accepted every one of the thrusts with unending and brazen gratitude. Rocking her hips back against Thirteen, Cameron propped herself up onto her elbows so that she could feel more of Thirteen's weight on top of her. Yelps turned to frenzied cries as Cameron tried to quickly recover from the pain as Thirteen struck her again and again with an equally brutal though exhilarating thrust. Squeezing her eyes closed as the apex of their union came nearer, Cameron's need for oxygen increased and her entire body tensed beneath Thirteen. Shaking slightly at first, Cameron reached behind her and grabbed Thirteen's tie that had been tickling her back and swiftly yanked it down until the girl was collapsed on top of her.

"Don't you dare stop," she panted, releasing the tie when she felt all of her senses merge into one and those gentle quakes become increasingly more violent with every passing breath.

"Wasn't planning on it," Remy snarled, sitting back up onto her heels and forcing Cameron to lurch forward onto the bed with every harsh assault into the very core of her. Thirteen pushed Cameron back down onto her chest and watched as Cameron's hands reached out to cling onto the blankets around her. Licking her lips, Thirteen watched with undivided interest as Cameron's bangs repeatedly fell over her eyes with every euphoric and painful jolt and listened to one strangled cry after another spill out from her open, tempting mouth until her conquest left Cameron weak, destroyed, and blissfully exhausted.


	6. Chapter 6

**vi.**

Barely 11:00 PM and Thirteen was sitting on the end of the bed buttoning what was left of her shirt for the third time that night. Her perfectly ironed clothes were a complete wreck on the floor and her _only_ dress shirt was now missing more than a couple of buttons. Beside her, Cameron lay upside down on the bed; recoiled, motionless, and quite peacefully sleeping. Thirteen gently ran her hand down along the dips and curves of Cameron's figure and after a short while, Cameron opened her eyes and grinned at Thirteen before sheepishly curling up tighter against the pillows and blankets that surrounded her.

Looking back into the dresser mirror in front of her, Thirteen decided that her shirt was not worth saving. Taking it off again and throwing it to the floor, she reached behind her head for the ponytail tie and pulled it out to fully let down her hair. Fluffing it out a bit to reveal its subtle waves, Thirteen looked back over at Cameron tangled up in bed sheets and clothing. She looked so innocent when she slept. How deceiving, Thirteen smirked. When the bed shifted as she stood up to get a change of clothes, Cameron awakened again and reached for her.

"Hey," Cameron said taking Thirteen's hand and pulling her back to the bed. "Don't leave me."

Obliging, Thirteen picked up her pillow from the opposite end of the bed and placed it beside Cameron. Lying down next to her, she stared into the ever-inquisitive green eyes before her. Curling a leg around Cameron's, Thirteen drew her close until Cameron was sharing her pillow. Thirteen had never been so tender with her before, but for some reason, it seemed like the right thing to do now and in a strange way, she wanted it to be like this…for now.

Slowly, Cameron reached to Thirteen's face, twirled her fingers around various strands of her still damp hair, and timidly smiled at her. "Are you okay?" She asked, keeping her eyes focused, not wanting Thirteen look away from her.

Remy snickered quietly, a bit confused by the question. "I'm a little more than okay, Cam."

"Not about this, Remy," she said, nudging her playfully. When Thirteen didn't answer, Cameron raised her eyebrows to indicate that she should know what she was talking about. The light in Thirteen's eyes quickly faded and Cameron knew they were back on the same page again. The only other place that she'd seen that look, despite her repeated attempts to dismiss it, was in her late husband. Except now the lonely, scared, and infinitely sad depth that she'd seen in Thirteen a year ago was more daunting than it had been before. Something had changed.

"I'm fine," Remy dismissed, picking up Cameron's hand from her side and kissing her fingertips as a means of distraction. Finding that it didn't work when she looked up again, Thirteen sighed and turned over in bed, though still held onto Cameron's hand and allowed it to drape over her stomach.

Cameron shifted up against Thirteen's back and kissed her pale shoulders as she traced patterns along the girl's stomach with her fingers, too scared to press the issue even though Thirteen's health gravely concerned her.

"Why are you here, Cameron?" Remy asked out of the blue. Thirteen knew the circumstances surrounding Cameron's only love and whether or not his terminal illness was the reason for her devotion, she had no interest in becoming a new test subject on the theory. If Cameron really wanted to stay and be with her, it needed to be because she wanted _her_, and not because she wanted to take care of Thirteen while her life deteriorated into nothingness over the next several years.

"I just am," Cameron shrugged, kissing Thirteen's shoulders again.

The bed shifted again and Remy turned around, wanting to see the truth for herself. "That's not a reason," she argued.

"Does there need to be one?" Cameron asked.

"When I know one exists, yes," she persisted.

Cameron sighed. "I just like being with you, Remy. Always have," she said touching the soft skin of Thirteen's cheek. "I feel…" she hesitated, unsure if who she was talking to was the insensitive and scornful Thirteen or the kinder, more tolerant Remy. "I feel safe with you," she confessed.

Remy cleared her throat and waited, expectantly. "That's it?"

"Isn't that enough?" Cameron asked, laughing in spite of herself. But when Thirteen knitted her brows, suspicious and demanding the _real_ reason that they both knew existed, Cameron gave in. "Because I'm alone and I don't want to be. And no one understands that," she faltered, afraid. "No one except you," she said, kissing her. "I'm fucking miserable, Remy," she sighed heavily, resting her forehead against Thirteen's while petting her cheek, practically begging for her to understand and to not initially react with malice for once. "But I'm always at least a little bit less miserable when I'm with you."

Thirteen snickered, half smiling. At least she hadn't said that she loved her. She wasn't sure what she could say to reassure Cameron and she wasn't even sure that she _wanted_ to reassure her at all. So instead, she remained quiet for a moment, allowing Cameron to pull her into another kiss, but when they pulled away, the look in Cameron's eyes told Thirteen that she wanted her to say something, _anything_…and Thirteen wasn't sure if she could.

"Are you _trying_ to make me feel like an idiot?" Cameron asked when Thirteen still didn't respond and worrying that she was about to turn on her like some rabid dog and ask her to leave without explanation.

"No, Cameron," Remy said smiling, then gently running her thumb along the base of Cameron's jaw.

"Then say something!" She demanded, raising her hands up in frustration.

"Well…" Remy pondered, rolling onto her back and looking up at the ceiling. "I was thinking that I could really go for some pancakes right about now," she said, looking over at Cameron and smiling.

"You're such an ass," Cameron said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. She wasn't sure why she was surprised. This was Remy she was talking to and Remy never discussed things of such magnitude.

"I thought you liked my ass," Remy joked, continuing to avert the issue while running her hands playfully along Cameron's ribcage and down her hips.

"Don't change the subject," Cameron argued, jabbing Remy in the gut with her elbow. "I tell you how I feel about us and instead of offering me the same in return, you tell me you're thinking about going out for pancakes?" She asked, looking back at Thirteen, amused though still hurt that the girl could not convey even _one_ straight answer to her.

Smiling softly, "No," she admitted, though still censoring herself. Ever cautious though consciously trying, Thirteen leaned in and kissed Cameron in the hopes that if Cameron could just _feel_ her affection that it would be just as tangible for her to believe as if she were admitting to it aloud. Pulling away, Thirteen curled up next to Cameron and looked up at her, hoping that she would just quietly accept her for who she was and let it be.

"Fair enough," Cameron conceded, losing herself in the sadness of Thirteen's bright eyes that were looking up at her. Kissing the crown of Thirteen's head as if forgiving her for being unable to be emotionally candid with her, she began running her fingers through Thirteen's hair as the brunette laid her head down onto her chest.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Cameron?" She asked. "I mean, you know I'm not going to be here forever, and…I'm starting to come to terms with that now – I think – but going through this once with your husband was bad enough and he was a decent man. I'm…well–" she stumbled, almost ashamed by her incorrigible behavior.

"An ass?" Cameron finished for her, chuckling. "Yeah, I know," she said smiling while continuing to run her fingers through Thirteen's hair. "But it's not for you to decide what I can and can't handle, Remy. You're here now and that's all I could ever ask of you," she added nudging Thirteen's face up with her shoulder and then kissing her softer than she'd ever kissed Thirteen, feeling the flight of a thousand butterflies take wing in the pit of her stomach as she did so. "Please don't ask me to leave," she whispered, clinging onto Thirteen and completely unable to look at her now that her fervent need for Thirteen's companionship was fully on display for her entire world (Remy) to see and judge.

Although her eyes were averted to avoid her gaze, Thirteen looked up and searched Cameron's face, seeing that her personal torment was never more apparent than it was now. How selfish she had been, wallowing in her own misery, when Cameron had been suffering just as she. Watching Cameron's eyelashes flutter gently against the apples her cheeks as to prevent the falling of tears, Thirteen was certain that she looked the same: lost, scared, but uniquely comforted by the person in bed with her. Cameron would never judge Thirteen and nor would Thirteen of Cameron. She still felt like it was precarious for them to get seriously involved, knowing the end result, but it was also apparent by their pathetic co-dependency that it was too late to accept any alternative. Though still fearful of their future, Thirteen embraced Cameron, laid her head back down upon her chest, and quietly listened to her heart beating slowly, steadily, and perfectly healthy.


End file.
